


A Week

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barbed cock, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, M/M, Male self-lubrication, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sex-as-cats, Werecats, bottom!Jensen, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Jensen's first Mating Week and he has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Week

**Author's Note:**

> For SMPC on LJ

It was Jensen’s first mating week, but he was proud of his den. He’d been determined; far more so than the Felinths a few years older than him who had already been through several mating weeks. They wanted to be caught so badly that the quality of the mates that found them hardly mattered.

Jensen wasn’t like that. If he was to mate this year, his partner would have to work for it. Jensen had spent his day head-start laying down false trails and traps, before climbing up as far as he could on the mountain and nesting down in a hidden rocky lair. It smelled old, but clean. No Felinth had ever used this cave during mating week before. Jensen couldn’t help but preen as he spent the second day decorating his den as his instincts required. Any dominant who caught his scent would have to work to mate him.

He resisted the instinct to shift for as long as he could, but the third day found him pacing on his paws, rubbing against the walls of his den and purring loudly. He wanted this place to smell like him. When—if—a dominant found him and mated him, they would return to his den for the birth of their cubs. Jensen would make the den comfortable, first for his dominant, and then for his cubs.

By the fourth day, Jensen could do nothing but lay on the ground, alternately rutting against the cool floor and grooming himself frantically for his mate. His dominant would come and find all their work was well worth it. Jensen would greet his dominant perfectly groomed and open to their advances.

He began to fantasize about his dominant. Perhaps they would be a large, hulking tiger or a sleek, elegant leopard. Jensen purred as loud as he could, the noise bouncing against the walls of the cave as he rolled onto his back in bliss, imagining his dominant coming in and breeding him as wonderfully as he deserved.

His tail lashed across the floor in desire.

The morning of the fifth day, Jensen’s eyes blinked blearily open as the sunrise hit his face. He turned over to look at the sky, only to be blinded by golden fur. His eyes blinked wider and he jumped to his feet, hissing before he could think.

The dominant intruding in his den was large. His mane flared around his face like the arms of the sun. Jensen’s animosity fled him almost instantly. Never had he ever imagined in his wildest heat dreams that a lion would catch his scent and follow it to his den.

The lion took a step further into the den, eyes locked on Jensen as a low rumble came out of his throat warily. Jensen yowled softly back, shifting from one paw to another nervously. For all his fantasies, he’d never thought a dominant would actually come to him. He suddenly found himself caught in lurching fear. What if this dominant was not all he had hoped for? What if their mating was miserable and unfulfilling for Jensen? 

As if he was sensing Jensen’s worries, the lion brought his body close to the ground, calling out low, reassuring sounds as he crept slowly forward. Jensen held his ground, his tail whipping back and forth in a sharp warning. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the lion to come closer or to run far, far away.

The lion stopped just a few feet away and crooned out a song of sweet mating sounds that lured Jensen closer until they were nearly nose to nose. Jensen hadn’t even realized he’d moved that near the dominant, until the lion exhaled and he was assaulted by the pungent scent of a virile dominant. This cat could breed him and breed him well; it would not take more than a few matings to make Jensen heavy with cubs. Jensen found himself answering the lion’s song with needy calls of his own as his tail lifted and his body began preparing itself for mating.

The first mating was traditionally done in their feline forms, which Jensen was more than fine with. At least this way, his human words and shape could not betray his fears, even though his scent could. Trying to seem assured, he resumed purring forcefully as he pressed himself against the lion’s side. The lion rumbled back at him and Jensen found himself settling into the mating position without any conscious decision.

He kept his eyes shut, partly from fear and partly from anticipation, as the lion moved behind him and then mounted his back, teeth coming to rest at the nape of Jensen’s neck. Jensen felt something nudge at his entrance for a moment, before he was filled in one single thrust.

Jensen screamed to the sky.

The lion’s voice joined him in a disjointed chorus as he continued to thrust into Jensen, quick, hard thrusts meant to speed their union. Jensen felt like he was coming apart at the seams every time the lion was fully inside of him. He’d been told his whole life that finding his dominant and mating with them would be a pleasure beyond words, but he’d always dismissed that as overly-romantic. He’d always been a tiny bit afraid of finding his dominant, which was perhaps why he’d gone to such elaborate lengths to insure only ‘worthy’ dominants would find him. But if he had known it would feel like this, perhaps he would have been like all the other Felinths and made the hunt pathetically easy.

But no. If he had, he might have been claimed by a lesser dominant. It was surely only the skill of this dominant, this Felinth, that led him to feel like this. No other Felinth could make Jensen paw against the ground and cry out his ecstasy so freely.

Jensen was right on the edge, so full of pleasure that he felt light-headed, when the lion first lurched forward, and then jerked out of him. Something sharp dragged along Jensen’s insides as the lion withdrew. Jensen screamed, all of his joyous thoughts forgotten as he rounded on the dominant and scratched him across the face. He swung his other paw out to try again, but the lion had already scrambled out of range, cowering towards the front of the den and mewling pitifully. Jensen suspected it was a plea to gain his forgiveness, but he merely hissed and stalked towards the back of the cave.

Barbs. How had he forgotten about barbs? There was a reason most Felinths didn’t mate in their feline forms often. In human shape, dominants could often restrain the urge to jerk out, meaning that the pair simply had to wait for the barbs to go down before separating. But in their cat forms… 

Of course, barbs were also supposed to aid in the reproductive process, which was why it was traditional to mate in feline forms first.

God, Jensen was going to kill whoever made that decision.

The lion crept a little closer and Jensen hissed at him again. His ass was sore, thank you very much. He wanted nothing to do with the lion for the rest of the week, at least. 

Finally, the lion gave a little groan and then moved, almost as if he was stretching upwards. Instead, he shifted, golden fur falling away to reveal a tall man, whose hair, while no longer golden, still seemed to frame his face in a mane.

“Hey,” the man said, keeping his distance, but trying to smile, even though four long scratches marred his face. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t even think about the barbs, which I know seems stupid, but this is my first mating week, so I didn’t really think anything through beyond ‘follow the scent’, you know.” He seemed to realize he was babbling and cut off with a blush. “Do you mind shifting? This would be a lot easier if you could talk beyond, you know, hissing at me.”

Jensen debated ignoring him, simply because he could. But he did want to either scratch something or yell at something, and the dominant was too fast for him to do the former. So, he shifted slowly, allowing his spotted fur to recede and skin to take its place.

He glared up at the man, who grinned nervously back at him. “You pulled your fucking barbed cock out of my ass!”

The man’s smile turned bashful. “At least I did it fast? Like pulling out a thorn. Faster is better, I think?”

“Barbed cock,” Jensen said through clenched teeth. “My ass.”

“Sorry?”

Growling, Jensen curled into a tight ball and glared.

The other man flung his hands up in exasperation. “Well, at least I wasn’t sadistic enough to send my potential mates on a false trail that led straight into a beehive!”

A flush colored Jensen’s cheeks. He vaguely remembered setting that up. Still, he scowled and grunted, “Barbs.”

“Stingers!” The other man yelled, pointing at him accusingly. “All over me. And I haven’t even had time to get them all out because I was afraid someone else would beat me to you. I’ve been wandering all over these woods for the past four days, trying to find you. And, of course, the life-giver I pick has to be the most contrary, hard-to-find one of all. Who is too busy being pissed about my natural instincts to let me even get him off.”

Jensen blinked. Several times. “Get me off?”

The other man blushed. “Well, you know, it’s not like you came when I was fucking you. And fair’s fair.”

“Do you have a barbed cock I could put in you?”

“Oh my god!” The man hit his palm against his forehead. Several times. Then he took a deep breath. “How ‘bout a blow job? No one doesn’t like blow jobs. I’ll give you a nice blow job, and you consider forgetting the barbed cock thing.”

Jensen let him stew for a minute, pretending to contemplate the deal, even though he knew he’d be saying yes. After all, blow jobs. “Fine,” he finally muttered and spread his legs with a wince. “Get to it.”

“Most contrary life-giver ever,” the other man said under his breath, but laid his long body down so his mouth hovered over Jensen’s dick. Jensen hadn’t really taken a good look at his body previously, but it was hard not to now, with the man about to put Jensen’s cock in his mouth. He’d been beautiful as a lion, and he was just as stunning as man; almond-shaped hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and pink lips. Jensen couldn’t help but feel a surge of arousal, and his tortured ass made an attempt to produce breeding slick once more.

The lion-man had caught the scent of his desire, because his eyes darted upwards playfully. “At least now I’m doing something right,” he said and took Jensen’s cock into his mouth before he could retort.

“Bastard,” Jensen still managed to moan, sinking his hands into the other man’s mane-like hair and tugging on it as he began to set a quick pace. The dominant didn’t seem interested in dragging things out, and Jensen was glad for that. He just wanted to get off. He thrashed against the wall of the cave as the dominant slid up and down his dick with those pink lips providing unholy suction. Jensen was pretty sure he was going to die.

The sounds that he made while he came were the most pathetic, high mewls he’d ever heard, but he couldn’t stop them, anymore than he could release the silky hair in his grasp. He held onto it as he came apart into pieces.

He was gasping when he finally let the other man go. The dominant immediately reached up and tugged Jensen down to the floor, curling up behind him. “Feel better?” the man asked, fingers dipping down to trace lightly across Jensen’s hole.

“Not that much better,” Jensen said grumpily, reaching back to bat the man’s hand away from him. “You’ll be lucky if you go near there anytime soon.”

Jensen felt the man’s smirk against his neck. “I guess I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you.”

“Yeah, sure…” He trailed off as he realized he didn’t even know the dominant’s name. His cheeks flushed, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he tried to come up with a good way of asking.

“Jared,” the other man said softly, having picked up on the same thing as Jensen.

“Jared,” Jensen repeated, rolling the name around in his mouth. It was a good, solid name. He liked it. “Jensen,” he said in answer.

“Jensen,” Jared murmured the name against his skin. “Any chance your middle name is Contrary?”

Jensen kicked backwards, grinning when he heard the other hiss. “Two weeks,” he warned, and was warmed by the soft chuckle of his dominant.


End file.
